Neverwinter Forest my head kissed the ground

backdated to like the 12th bc i'm slow

the rain didn't let up as he traveled. if anything, it rained more. if cam was more superstitious, he'd think this was some sort of cosmic way to spite him for leaving ziggy, coming back, leaving his birthplace yet again. . . but he wasn't, so the precipitation was merely an annoyance. a hindrance to travel.

eventually he made it, though, and as the evergreen scent entered his nostrils, he felt a weight off his shoulders he hadn't even realized was there. the north was beautiful, and he'd seen a lot—but nowhere as lovely as this forest. there was something about this place; whether it was tinted by nostalgia or simply owed to the scenery, he had pined for these pines.

and he had missed @Mal, too. he sent up a howl, feeling a little sheepish. he had left very abruptly in midwinter, without giving much of a farewell to his friend. still, it seemed the dappled man had done well for himself and his territory. the borders were well-marked, the scent of many wolves along the perimeter. he even thought he picked up a faint whiff of children, or at least by association with nursing mothers.

yes, the forest was thriving. and as the rain continued to hammer down, cam stood, soaked to the bone, and wondered if he could thrive again here, too.